Portrait of a Platoon

The patrol has lasted an hour, the three humvees slashing and darting through hairpin turns and blind alleyways, looking for attackers. It's 9 o'clock on a clear, mild December night in Adhamiya, one of Baghdad's oldest neighborhoods and these days among the most restive. The soldiers are out to draw fire. They cruise the streets and make themselves targets in order to flush insurgents into the open.

But they encounter nothing. So now the convoy is heading back to base, a mile away. The platoon rolls into Adhamiya's main marketplace. The atmosphere is festive. Patrons of the teahouses and restaurants overflow onto the one-lane street. Traffic is running in both directions, and the convoy slows to a crawl. Just across Imam Street, the district's main thoroughfare, sits the Abu Hanifa mosque, where Saddam Hussein was last seen in public before his arrest by U.S. forces. A large crowd of Iraqis mills outside it. Private First Class Jim Beverly, 19, and Private Orion Jenks, 22, stand in the bed of the convoy's second vehicle, a roofless high-back humvee, which resembles a large pickup truck and is generally used to transport troops. Also riding in the back are two TIME journalists. As the convoy begins moving again, Jenks and Beverly chat casually and laugh. Sergeant Ronald Buxton, who is riding shotgun in the cab of the high-back, whips around. "I don't care if you joke or if you smoke," he tells the privates, "but make sure you watch our back."

The vehicles cross Imam Street and move toward the mosque. TIME senior correspondent Michael Weisskopf glances up at the mosque's clock tower, damaged by U.S. tank shells during a fierce battle in April. As he does, he hears a clunk and sees that an oval-shaped object has landed on the seat beside him. For a split second he thinks it's a rock, then he realizes it isn't. He reaches to throw it out. Suddenly there is a flash. The object explodes in Weisskopf's hand.

Shrapnel ricochets off the walls of the humvee, hitting Beverly, Jenks and TIME photographer James Nachtwey. Smoke rises from the high-back. Blood pours from Weisskopf's right arm; when he holds it up, he realizes the grenade has blown off his hand. Specialist Billie Grimes, a medic attached to the platoon, sprints out of the third humvee and hoists herself onto the high-back. She uses a Velcro strap tied to her pant leg as a tourniquet to stop Weisskopf's bleeding and applies a field dressing to the wound while loudly asking the three other passengers if they are injured. Nachtwey, who has taken shrapnel in his left arm, abdomen and both legs, briefly snaps pictures of Grimes treating Weisskopf before losing consciousness. For several seconds Jenks slumps motionless, stunned, but then instinctively slides his gun's safety to semiautomatic, preparing to return fire. Only later does he learn that shrapnel has fractured his leg.

The convoy halts in front of the mosque. Buxton turns around. "Are there any casualties?" he asks. "Yes! Yes!" replies Beverly. Shrapnel has hit him in the right hand and right knee. Two of his front teeth have been knocked out, and his tongue is lacerated. "Let's go!" he says. "Let's go!" The humvees peel out and roar for home.

This is not the war this army unit— officially known as the Survey Platoon, Headquarters Battery, 2nd Battalion, 3rd Field Artillery Regiment of the 1st Armored Division—was trained to fight. On a traditional battlefield, field-artillery survey units stay behind the front lines and use gyroscopic devices to measure the distance to enemy positions so the Army's big guns can hit their targets. That was the job this platoon, based in Giessen, Germany, pictured for itself when it received deployment orders in March, before the start of the war with Iraq. The group, now nicknamed the "Tomb Raiders," was told to prepare for combat in the event of a prolonged siege of Baghdad. That battle never came. The platoon reached the capital in late May, nearly a month after President Bush declared the end of major combat operations. But the demands of the occupation of Iraq forced the Tomb Raiders to assume the duties of infantrymen—patrolling streets, conducting raids, hunting insurgents and imposing order in one of the most volatile neighborhoods of Baghdad. In that respect, the platoon embodies the ways in which the 120,000 American men and women in arms serving in Iraq have had to adapt to the evolving challenges of making the country secure.

Drawn from disparate backgrounds, the platoon's members provide a portrait of the military's diversity as well as insight into the motivations—and fears—of America's fighting forces. Its soldiers include Sergeant Marquette Whiteside, 24, an African-American gunner who pines for his 6-year-old daughter; Specialist Sky Schermerhorn, 29, an idealist now gnawed by doubt about what he is fighting for; and Buxton, 32, a brainy Gulf War I veteran who since being deployed has taught himself Arabic and missed the birth of a son. Specialist Bernard Talimeliyor, 24, a native of the U.S. protectorate of Yap, Micronesia, was so moved by the events of 9/11 that he decided to enlist, even though he had never seen mainland U.S. Two noncommissioned officers, Staff Sergeant Abe Winston, 42, and Sergeant David Kamont, 34, serve as mentors to the platoon's three youngest G.I.s, Private Lequine Arnold, 20, an African American from Goldsboro, N.C.; Beverly, an amateur artist from Akron, Ohio; and Jenks, who joined the platoon in late November. Grimes, 26, the only female soldier attached to the unit, maintains a steely grit around the guys but cries on the phone to her father when she talks about what she has witnessed in Iraq. Sergeant José Cesar Aparicio, 31, a reservist, heads a psychological-operations team attached to the platoon. The leader of the Tomb Raiders, First Lieutenant Brady Van Engelen, 24, took over command two months ago and is still fighting for his soldiers' respect.

The platoon has served in Iraq for seven months and expects to stay for five more. In three weeks with the Tomb Raiders, over the course of 30 patrols with the unit and sister platoons, TIME journalists witnessed the tedium and the terror, the sacrifice and resolve that epitomize the lives of G.I.s across Iraq. Like thousands of Americans in this war, the Tomb Raiders have absorbed losses that have changed their lives forever. Theirs is the story of what the Army looks like today and what this war has become.

This is a preview of the whole article. One of the authors, Michael Weisskopf, got his hand blown off by a grenade while reporting in Iraq, and it is said that his action probably saved the lives of some GIs. So I guess not all major media reporters are jerks :)

Is this the same reporter that had the grenade lobbed into his vehicle and he picked it up and threw it back out, only to have it blow up just outside the vehicle? I think self-preservation played a bigger role than some sort of altruistic motivation.

Looked at the article and read about the members of the platoon (http://www.time.com/time/personoftheyear/2003/poyplatoon.html#).

Impressed with the troops. Good men, all.

Pardon my cynicism, but as I was going through the list of platoon members I was keeping the “diversity” count. Have to these days, especially when the article mentioned the magic word, ‘diverse.” Anyway, noticed no female member and was wondering if it was true, we have a combat unit being profiled and political correctness wasn’t going to intrude. Sadly, this was not the case.

The last entry is of a female that was “assigned to the platoon from another unit.” Wow. Assigned? When? Just before the article was written, in my jaded opinion. IMHO another politically correct effort to ensure "diversity."

So I guess not all major media reporters are jerks :)

You are thinking of the TV prima donnas, not print reporters.

A lot of reporters are brought up in isolation, going to liberal colleges, and then getting jobs where everyone thinks the same thing.

Most GI's are working class or middle class.

Embedding reporters with our GI's is the best thing to happen to these poor isolated reporters to expose them to true diversity...

It is a fact that "diversity" trumps truth, and I also point out it is a fact that media reports push "diversity" at every turn. Therefore, when a report profiles a platoon with a recently transferred female member. . .this calls into question the timing of the transfer (before or after the decision to profile). At any rate, you can also be assured that it is a fact that the reporter that did the profiling had his orders to find a "diverse" platton, not necessarily the most deserving. Not saying this platton isn't deserving---to those of the democratic thin skin.

Pointing out the unpleasant truth that the media, service, government, etc., would engage in stacking the diversity numbers is not at all out of line.

Having written for publication (peer review journals and popular media), and having close friends in the business, you can be assured that "diversity" is a requirement.

I guess I should just close my eyes, sing "We are the World" and dance around the diversity flag pole. Heck, the media, and others, wouldn't be trying to push an agenda, now would they.

Never in my post did I ever insult the men of the platoon, just called into question the inclusion and timing of some supposed female member.

Have a nice day, thanks for dropping by and sorry to see you go.

I do not understand this at all. This neighborhood is known as a trouble spot. Why are the troops not allowed to show up and barbwire the entire area off when it is most likely the bad guys are there?

Cordon off the area and you have the bad guys captive, they can't leave, they can't kill, they are trapped. If the neighborhood wants it's freedom again, they must cough up the bad guys and strangers new to the neighborhood.

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